One more "from the Archive" blog:
The Tips of the Autumn Leaves 12/8/2016
It's been a while since I've written any poetry that has not been set to music, but this is my latest poem. I wrote it at the beginning of autumn while working for the Cedarville alumni office. I work telemarketing for them and my cubicle is in front of this giant window which gives a great view of a random street behind the college. On this street there was a small tree that had just begun to change colors. That is what inspired my thoughts--that along with boredom since I mostly just listen to phones ring for three hours. As I was thinking, I decided to write this poem. Anyway, here it is: Have you ever considered the tips of autumn trees Just before the season turns green to vibrant color? It begins at the tips, with only a few leaves contrasting The green that the other seasons have built It is as if God has dipped his paintbrush For the first time this fall And begun his masterful artwork That will last all season long When beauty has begun displaying, it's robust Color no longer delaying its arrival to our season, It is the beginning of the procession nature undertakes To turn from summer to autumn again. Yet, consider it in all its irony The leaves are dying, that's why they fall, And we watch them with no trace of sympathy; Instead we joyfully watch them crumble. Is it something for which we should share remorse, Or is it deemed worthy of our appreciation? There is simply elegant beauty in their death, But is death still death in beauty? Thanks for reading :)
Kommentare